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Sunday, March 16, 2003 Page: 1E
As our days twinkle by, and as the number of these days grows and grows, I
suspect many of us start to think about what’s next. The Bible is probably the
most reliable source of information on what we will find at our next stop.
I keep promising to spend more time with my Bible, but doggone! You know
how busy we can get these days.
I do remember something about streets paved with gold up there in heaven,
and that’s nice, but if our streets were paved with gold, I think gold would
soon drop in price to compete with asphalt. Also, I’m not sure I qualify for
heaven. I sure hope so, but I’ve been naughty a time or two.
I have tried to clean things up and now I have to wait. Not that I mind the
wait.
I would much rather think and wonder about heaven while I’m waiting.
For example: Do they speak English up there? I hope so. I have tried my
hand at a half dozen languages and never got past learning the foreign words
for “yes” and “no,” “thank you,” “where is the hotel?” “How much cost?” “Do
you make a good beer in this country?”
I hope the folks I’m going to meet up there in heaven are not a serious
bunch. If I’m going to spend eternity with them, it sure would be nice if they
had a sense of humor, knew a lot of good dirty stories and liked to horse
around and smile a lot.
Another thing … a perfect heaven is a quiet heaven. No power mowers, or
hedge trimmers, or leaf blowers; or car horns.
Gurrrr … I say anyone who blows a car horn in heaven should be promptly
transferred ~to hell. Oh, not forever, for heaven sake! But for a thousand
years, or so.
As a matter of fact, if I find any automobiles in heaven, I will organize a
movement to have the darned things banned.
And sirens! Can you imagine a siren in heaven? Well, not in MY heaven.
Anyone is caught blowing a siren in my heaven, he should get 2,000 years in
hell.
How about food? It’s possible there is no such thing as food when we get to
heaven.
Can you visualize a bunch of angels sitting down to a meal of spaghetti and
meatballs? Gracious sakes! Who in heaven is going to kill a cow so an angel
butcher could make meatballs?
Maybe food is not part of heaven. If not, I’m going to have to get used to
this. I have always enjoyed three-squares a day.
Maybe I’d better stop thinking about it. Like I say, how do I know I’m
going to qualify for heaven? The hell would be much harder to get used to.
Jack Charests Thoughts for Grown-Ups column appears Sundays.